


Powerless

by RetroactiveCon



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Broken Bones, Choking, Hurt No Comfort, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21721666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: Eobard clucks his tongue. “I thought you would have learned by now, Flash. You can struggle all you like; you’ll never escape.”Barry snarls. Defiance looks good on him, Eobard muses; it’s why he didn’t strip away Barry’s personality as he had the Legends’. They’re pests, but Barry is his equal in every regard. Half the fun of besting an equal is, of course, their humiliation. Besides, nothing less would have satisfied him after what he endured in Flashpoint.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Eobard Thawne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Powerless

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Doomworld, because I wasn't convinced that Eobard would kill Barry quickly - he seems to be the kind of villain who enjoys his enemies' powerlessness. That said, the ways he does this to Barry are particularly horrific, so please heed the tags!

Eobard descends to the Time Vault, anticipation coursing through his veins like heady wine. In this reality, he never needed the Time Vault to house Gideon; it’s been repurposed. It opens only for a speedster, ensuring that, should anyone hear the cries from within, they cannot inadvertently free his captive. 

He elects to open the door rather than phase through the wall. Phasing is, in fact, easier, but allowing a glimpse of the hallway beyond is fresh torture for his pet. 

There’s a clink of metal and a muffled grunt. Barry Allen is jerked off his feet, the chain attached to his collar pulling taut as he struggles to run to the door. Eobard clucks his tongue. “I thought you would have learned by now, Flash. You can struggle all you like; you’ll never escape.” 

Barry snarls. Defiance looks good on him, Eobard muses; it’s why he didn’t strip away Barry’s personality as he had the Legends’. They’re pests, but Barry is his equal in every regard. Half the fun of besting an equal is, of course, their humiliation. Besides, nothing less would have satisfied him after what he endured in Flashpoint. “I’ve gotten out of a lot of places, Thawne, all of them worse than this.”

Eobard shakes his head. He takes his time approaching Barry, enjoying the poorly-hidden fear in his eyes. When he brings a hand up, Barry flinches. Rather than strike him, Eobard grabs his jaw and holds him still. “You misunderstand. There’s nowhere for you to run, Barry. This is my world, and there is nowhere you can go that I won’t find you.” 

Barry wrenches free of his hold. Eobard smirks; he truly hasn’t learned how powerless he is. Just to remind him, he orders, “Come here.”

Barry balls his hands into fists by his sides but is helpless to keep himself from stepping forward. This was perhaps Eobard’s most delicious innovation. Try though he might, Barry cannot resist a direct order. Because he enjoys a little resistance, Eobard seldom gives him a direct order. In this instance, though, he feels Barry needs the reminder. 

“There.” He cups Barry’s chin as he had before Barry backed away. “Good boy.” 

Barry shudders. Eobard wonders if he’s remembering the time, not all that long ago, when he lived for Eobard’s praise. No doubt the memory still rankles, which is why Eobard reminds him of it as often as he can.

“What do you want me to do to you today?” 

Barry turns his head away. Eobard squeezes his chin hard enough to hurt and forces him to meet his eyes. Until his stint as Harrison Wells, he didn’t know about Barry’s aversion to eye contact. Now, it’s a weakness he exploits to make Barry feel even more helpless, even more out of control, than he already does. 

“I asked you a question, Flash.”

Barry sets his jaw and offers, “You could let me go.” 

Eobard sighs and raises a hand as though to rub the bridge of his nose. At the last second, when Barry has relaxed, he backhands him across the face. “I won’t tolerate cheek, Flash. You should have learned that long ago.”

Barry glares. His cheek flushes up a bright, even red, a mark that ought to last until Eobard is done with him. “And here I thought you liked my smart mouth.” 

Eobard raises his eyebrows. He does, of course, but he hadn’t thought Barry would so willingly draw attention to the fact. “Oh,” he realizes. “You’re trying to provoke me. You would rather I beat you bloody or fucked your pretty little mouth.”

Fear flits across Barry’s face. Eobard can’t help smirking and tracing his fingertips over Barry’s bruised cheek. 

“What are you afraid of, Flash?” When he speaks, it’s a whisper, not because he fears being overheard but because it’s the most intimate way to threaten. “Being fucked, or liking it?” 

Barry brings both hands up. Eobard watches as though it’s happening in slow motion. He wants to plant his palms against Eobard’s chest and push; even with his powers dampened, he’s more than capable of flinging him across the room. He waits until he can feel the warmth of Barry’s palms through his shirt. Before Barry can push him away, he grabs his wrists and twists until bones break. Barry screams. 

“I love when you fight me,” Eobard murmurs. He rubs his thumbs over Barry’s wrists, a mockery of affection that only causes more pain. “It gives me an excuse to hurt you.” 

Barry grits his teeth. After his initial scream, he seems unwilling to give Eobard the satisfaction of making more noise, even when Eobard digs his fingertips into his wrists. “You don’t need an excuse.”

Eobard smirks. “Perhaps not, but I think you would enjoy it more if I tortured you constantly. At least then you would know what to expect, and you like clear expectations, don’t you? But if I’m gentle with you…” He releases his hold on Barry’s wrists. “…or, every once in a while, bring you pleasure…” He cups Barry through his jeans. Despite himself, Barry starts to harden as soon as he’s touched. A speedster’s metabolism has its drawbacks, and heightened sensitivity is among the more embarrassing. “…you’ll never know what I’m going to do to you.” 

Barry takes a shaky step back. It’s barely a retreat; even with two broken wrists and a finite length of chain, he could do much more to get away. Eobard takes it as proof of what he’s thought all along: deep down, buried beneath denial and loathing, Barry wants this. Eobard will make it hurt, will make him hate himself for wanting it, but that won’t make him want it less. 

“Get on your knees, Flash,” he coaxes. 

Barry drops to his knees hard enough to strike a muffled sound from the metal. Eobard brushes his fingers through Barry’s hair, dragging his head back so that their eyes meet. 

“If you fight me, I will hurt you in ways you can only imagine.” 

Barry doesn’t resist. In fact, he’s almost enthusiastic when he takes Eobard’s cock in his mouth. Eobard laughs and drags him off by his hair. 

“I’m going to fuck you regardless of whether you make me come with that clever little mouth. If you want a bellyful of come, I’m not going to stop you, but be aware it won’t help you.” 

As he’d expected, Barry’s enthusiasm decreases somewhat. That does nothing to lessen his skill; he brings Eobard to the edge before long. (Eobard wants to know where his Flash learned to suck cock. He has his suspicions, but until they’re confirmed, he’ll do nothing to the perpetrator save work him ragged.) 

“Enough.” Eobard pulls him off by his hair. Barry scowls up at him, his eyes strangely hazy. “Lie down.” 

Reluctantly, Barry tips over onto his side and rolls onto his back. Eobard makes a show of looking him over. Although he’d always imagined taking the Flash from behind, there are advantages to this position: it will hurt more, particularly with poor lubrication, and it will provide the intimacy of being able to see each other. For Eobard, this means the ability to savor all of Barry’s reactions. For Barry, this means the constant reminder of Eobard’s dominance. 

“Beautiful.” Eobard strips off Barry’s jeans and briefs. Without being told, Barry spreads his legs and crooks them in the air. 

Entering him is exquisite. The heat and pressure steal Eobard’s breath; Barry’s near-inaudible whimper takes the last of his composure. He sets a brutal rhythm and adds teasing vibrations to the end of each thrust. The first time he does so, Barry yells in surprise. After that, he remains quiet, although he draws blood from his lip to do so. 

“Let me hear you,” Eobard orders. Unable to disobey, Barry makes a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob. “Perfect.”

Barry can no longer muffle his moans, pleasured or pained. However, he never begs or sheds a tear. Eobard wrings an orgasm from him, then a second and a third. Only once Barry is gasping from overstimulation does he allow himself to come. 

“You’re mine,” he murmurs. “All your pleasure, all your pain, is at my discretion. When they mingle…” He circles a finger around Barry’s stretched hole. When he withdraws, it’s slick with blood and come. “…that, too, is mine.” 

He pulls out of Barry with a wet _pop._ Barry’s blood has smeared along his shaft. The sight of it is almost enough to get him hard again, but he’s had quite enough for one day. It’s better to end it on his terms than give Barry an opportunity to get the best of him. 

He wipes himself down and tucks himself away. Barry remains limp on the floor, insensible or close to it. It’s for this reason that Eobard feels safe to turn his back on him, which is, in hindsight, precisely what he wanted. 

Eobard is almost to the door when he’s attacked from behind. The force of the shove sends him flying into the far wall. His head knocks against the metal, sending the room whirling around him and forcing him to his knees. When he looks up, Barry is facing him, fists held up in a sloppy guard. 

“That,” Eobard growls, “was a mistake.”

He launches himself across the room. Without his powers, Barry can’t hope to fight or evade him. Eobard grabs him by the throat and shoves him against the wall before he’s had a chance to blink. 

“What did you hope to achieve?” He tightens his hold until Barry can no longer breathe. “You’re powerless, helpless, _hopeless._ You’re only alive because _I permit it.”_

Barry scrabbles weakly at Eobard’s clutching hand. His jagged nails leave stinging welts that heal as soon as they open. Eobard increases the pressure until Barry’s swollen lips shade toward blue. 

“I used to admire your persistence, Flash.” Barry’s struggles grow weaker. Emboldened, Eobard squeezes tighter. “Now, it’s an annoyance. You will learn to submit to me, and you will like it.” 

The fight goes out of Barry as suddenly as if Eobard struck him over the head: his hands drop to his sides, his eyes flutter shut, and his body goes limp. Eobard releases him and he slumps to the floor, sucking in deep, ragged breaths. 

“Such a pity.” Eobard smooths a hand over his rumpled shirt and turns to face the door. “No matter, Flash. I have all the time in the world to break you.”


End file.
